


Lost And Found

by mmiiaa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU!Destiel - Freeform, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Angst, College, College AU, College!AU, College!Castiel, Cuddling, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Fluff, M/M, Make Outs, Series, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, castiel novak - Freeform, chapters, college!dean, deancass - Freeform, supernatural series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-11 10:37:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17445308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmiiaa/pseuds/mmiiaa
Summary: Dean Winchester enters his freshman year more confused about his life than ever and in desperate need of a nudge in the right direction. Castiel Novak works on finding his own place in university, his family, the daunting world and Dean's life.





	1. Directions Please?

“Dad, I told you, you don’t have to stay,” Dean Winchester promise on his college move-in day. 

 

“Let’s just get this over with, Dean,” his father grumbled, lugging a box up the stairs of Dean’s dormitory. “It’s bad enough you made Sam and I drive so far from home, I don’t need a call from you tonight because you half-assed your move in.”

 

“I can handle it,” Dean said as he led his father toward his dorm room, silently hoping his roommate would already be there, creating a barrier between him and his dad.

 

“Right, like you handle everything else,” his father grumbled.

 

Dean’s fingers tightened their grip against the box in his hands. He was counting the seconds until his father was hundreds of miles away and he could decline his phone calls with no immediate consequence. He had been dreaming of this day since he was ten years old. But there was Sam, his poor, little brother. Dean was leaving him all alone with their father; it felt wrong. They had never been apart for so long and never more than ten miles. Then again, John Winchester had a soft spot for his younger son, something Dean had never experienced. 

 

As Dean opened the door, he spotted a brunette boy reading on an empty bed. He didn’t look up or speak, it seemed as if he hadn’t even realized the door had opened. Dean set his few belongings down on the opposite end of the tiny room and turned to the boy, assuming he was his roommate.

 

“Uh, are you Arthur? Arthur Ketch?” Dean asked. 

 

The boy carefully looked up, he eyed Dean and his father up and then looked back to his book. “Yes. I presume you are Dean Winchester?”

 

“Y--yeah,” Dean nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“Uh, huh.”

 

John looked at Dean, scowling. The younger forced a smile, occupying his temperamental father’s mind with another activity. He handed John a small gift box with a note attached. It wasn’t very much, but Dean knew Sam would appreciate the gift. 

 

“Just give this to Sammy, please,” Dean requested, figuring the box would be opened and destroyed by the time John made it back to the motel where Sam was waiting. “Thank you for helping. I’ll call you guys tomorrow if I get the chance.”

 

“Yeah,” John grumbled, turning toward the door without a goodbye. “You’ll call when you need something… or when you fail out.”

Dean so desperately wanted to argue or yell or  _ something _ , but he knew his dad was right. He would call Sam when he could and he would try to talk to his dad, but John would never listen until he could throw something back in his face. He was determined to prove him wrong. He was sure he could do more than get a degree to just help his dad out, he could get a real job and start his own life. He could get an apartment one day and he and Sam could move out. Maybe even fourteen year old Sam could go to college too.

 

“So, uh, what are you studying?” Dean asked Arthur once their dorm room door was shut. “Have you chosen a major?”

 

“Business,” Arthur said, his eyes still unwavering as he continued to read. 

 

“ _ Right _ ,” Dean mouthed as he started to unpack his things.

  
  


The first two weeks of Dean’s time at university were less than ideal. He realized early on that Arthur was not much for conversation and had no problem with snooping in his things. He also had no sense of was socially acceptable as roommates. Dean often found he was forced to excuse himself from the dorm when Arthur arrived with a new girl, already half-naked. He wouldn’t have minded leaving so frequently if he knew where he was going or had someone to hangout with for a while. It had arrived at a point where he wondered if he could switch roommates or if there was some kind of protocol for this particular situation. 

 

One afternoon, Dean retired to a coffee shop just down the street from his dorm, hoping if he gave it an hour, Arthur would be dressed and prepared for his roommate to enter. He sat alone in a catty-cornered sofa, struggling to get down the rest of his cold coffee. His eyes followed a group of guys at the far end of the cafe, laughing and arguing as friends did. He could see them all ogling a group of girls just a few tables away. While the notion itself was less than appealing to Dean, he did miss sit with his own friends back in Lawrence and pretending that he enjoyed the activity, but ultimately just ensuring it never went too far. He peeled his eyes away once he saw how much the girls were actually enjoying the attention. His gaze dropped to his watch and a realization dawned on him. The blood rushing through his ears thudded like a drum beat and his heart sank into his stomach. He was seconds away from being late to his lecture. 

 

Gathering his belongings as quickly as possible, Dean headed for the exit. He caught the eye of one of the students in the gaggle of guys across the room. Just for a split second he smiled and Dean’s nerves calmed. He was distracted for just an instance, thinking maybe someone was aware of his existence at that school. It was a wistful thought and it faded as soon as he ran straight into the door. His mind was miles away now, focusing on the pain in his forehead and the fact that the door had clearly said ‘pull’. His face heated up and his anxiety sprouted again as he pulled the door open and dashed across the campus. 

 

For most of the students, Dean’s timing would have put him in class at just the right time. For Dean, he would be at least ten minutes late; mostly because he had no clue where to go. He ran over a hill, making his legs burn and coffee spray his arm. His palms began to sweat and body tensed as he passed a few students on their way to the cafeteria. He could see the lecture hall in the distance and he let his legs pick up speed as his hair blew in the wind. 

 

Dean darted up the stairs of the hall until his found the right door. His strides slowed and he tried to calm his breathing. His lungs stung and his back ached like he had never experienced before. His leaned down, clutching his knees as his breath returned. Forcing himself inside as quietly as possible, Dean took a seat in the very back of the room. 

 

There weren’t many people inside, but most students had crowded toward the front, giving the appearance of a well-attended lecture. Dean assumed moving down there with them would have caused too much attention to be drawn to him. Then again, however, when he took his seat, he hadn’t noticed the student beside him in the dim lighting. Now his body tensed again, he could barely turn his head or even come up with one rational thought as he panicked, wondering if he should move, even just down one row, or if that would make it more awkward. Instead, he tried to pretend he was fine with the seating arrangement and leaned back, attempting a more laid back position he had originally taken. Soon after, he wondered if he smelled from the sweat growing beneath his clothes. He couldn’t help but overthink everything imaginable now. So much so, that he hadn’t noticed he was in a lecture for linear algebra, rather than mechanical engineering. 

 

“You’ve got coffee all over, you know that right?”

 

Dean forced his head to the side, facing the student beside him. He had barely heard a word that was whispered, but he knew he couldn’t ignore the person anymore. He forced a slight smile as he feet shifted nervously. 

 

“Y-yeah, I was… I was kind of in a rush,” Dean whispered back. 

 

“How so? You left five minutes before me,” the same deep, comforting voice said.

 

Dean could see his features now, immediately having a vague recognition.

 

“You were… How did you get here before me? I had to run here,” Dean asked in confusion.

 

“Something tells me you don’t know your way around this place very well,” the student from the coffee shop chuckled. “There’s a shortcut from the cafe, takes like two minutes to get here… walking.”

 

“ _ Oh. _ ” 

 

There were a few minutes of silence as Dean tried to imagine a shorted way to get to the lecture hall. He couldn’t picture anyway aside from the one he had taken. His brain ran through every street and pathway he could remember. It went on until the student interrupted.

 

“You seem really confused,” he snorted. “Like you’ve looked constipated since you came in here.”

 

“Sorry, I just…”

 

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” he said. “Maybe to your professor, since you missed your lecture, but I don’t mind.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“This isn’t your hall,” the student said, standing up, but being careful not to draw any attention to himself.

 

“Sure it is...n’t…” After listening for just a moment, Dean could tell he wasn’t, in fact, in the right place at all.

 

“Come on,” the student said.

 

Dean hesitated, watching as the man he didn’t know climbed over him and waited patiently at the door. Staying behind seemed useless at that point. He had already missed his lecture and linear algebra flew straight over his head. He needed someone to show him around and despite being a perfect stranger, the brunette seemed like first person even alluding to doing that. Dean stood up and followed him out the door.

 

“I’m Castiel Novak, in case you wanted to know,” the student said. “Probably should let you know before I kidnap you.”

 

Dean, in spite of himself, paused at this. 

 

“I’m kidding,” Castiel said, raising his eyebrows at Dean as they continued walking to the stairs.

 

“I know,” Dean said defensively. “I just thought of something important for a second…”

 

“Sure,” Castiel nodded along, a sly smile on his lips. “So, since you don’t seem to be planning on telling me  _ your _ name, can I ask which lecture you were  _ supposed _ to be in?”

 

“Uh, mechanical engineering,” Dean said, crossing his arms around his chest.

 

“Nothing in particular? Just mechanical engineering?” Castiel asked. “Seems awfully broad. How’s that going?”

 

“Well I guess there’s a specific topic, but I’ve been a little… lost the past couple weeks,” Dean shrugged. “And I’m Dean, by the way… Winchester.”

 

“Makes sense,” Castiel said as they reached the bottom floor of the hall and turned down a hallway to the left of the entrance. “This place is massive, which is great if you want to study everything under the sun, but for a bunch of students that are most likely hungover or high, not so fun. It’s my fifth sixth semester and I just managed to get a hold on where everything is.”

 

“Oh, great,” Dean sighed.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Castiel said, waving him off as they stopped down the hallway and watched a few students trickle out of a lecture hall. He pointed down at the door they came from. “You already know where one place is. Now you just have to find a few more.”

 

“Yeah, just four more, probably all scattered across the campus,” Dean pouted.

 

He stood up straight and turned to Castiel, preparing to thank him and move along on his own when he saw Castiel already walking away.

 

Without turning to face him, he spoke, “Let’s go, Winchester, we’re gonna find your next class.”

 

Surprised by the turn of events, Dean scrambled after Castiel, tripping over his own feet as he went. Catching up, he walked in step with the upperclassmen. Castiel walked with leisure, pointing out random parts of the campus and cluing Dean in on everything he could. They wandered past the library and bookstore, a church and a few buildings Castiel admitted he had never gone inside and didn’t think he’d ever need to. 

 

“Alright, so what’s first? Physics?” Castiel asked, his index finger tracing circles across his thighs as they stood.

 

Dean looked around, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I think it’s near a dining hall or something.”

 

“Sounds about right,” Castiel nodded. “Come on.”

 

They continued walking, Dean taking the chance to give Castiel a good look every time he turned away. He was a few inches shorter than Dean, but no shorter than six foot, and had a clear athletic background. His hair was dark and wily, dancing over his head in the breeze. His clothes were colorless and bland, just there to keep him warm and comfortable. Dean noticed a couple gold rings on his fingers, glimmering in the sunlight as they walked down the sideway. His eyes stayed focused on them for just a second too long, resulting in yet another head injury.

 

A ringing sensation blared through Dean’s head as he ran straight into a stop sign. His eyes shut and he stumbled backwards a bit, clutching his forehead. His eyes gently opened when he caught his balance again and he checked his hand warily for any blood. As expected, he was fine, except for the loss of dignity. Seeing this, Castiel allowed himself to laugh a little at the event.

 

“Twice in one day,” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Dean, you’ve got to watch where you’re going.”

 

“Shut your mouth,” Dean said, laughing a little as well as he rubbed his bruised forehead. “I swear that wasn’t there like two seconds ago.”

 

“No, it wasn’t there like two  _ minutes  _ ago when you started staring at my hands,” Castiel said with a knowing smirk.

 

Dean’s mind blanked, his face flushed. “I--I was just wondering where you got your rings?”

 

“They were gifts, from my uncles,” Castiel said, showing them off. “I have two more. They’re kind of a tradition in my family. It’s weird.”

 

Dean pulled a chain from under his shirt, showing off his own ring. “This was my mom’s. Not a tradition, naturally, but I get it.”

 

Castiel smiled as they continued walking down the road.

 

A while later, Castiel had given Dean a full tour, one he should have had a long time before. He had found every building he could need, the fastest way to get there and a few places to run to when Arthur returned with a lady friend. Now, they sat in the dining hall, enjoying dinner together by a window that showed off a view of the mountains that surrounded their campus.

 

“He really has a new girl every night?” Castiel questioned, pulling his knee up on the chair to rest his chin on.

 

“I wouldn’t say that, but let’s just go with… I’ve only ever seen the same girl twice when I run into her on the way to dinner.”

 

“Geez,” Castiel shook his head at Dean. “I’ve never understood that kind of thing.”

 

“Yeah, I guess I couldn’t really just move from person to person, doesn’t seem right,” Dean said, tapping his fingers against the table. 

 

“Oh, no, that I get,” Castiel said, wiping his hands on a napkin. “I have no problem switching like that, I wouldn’t wanna hang around someone I don’t see any kind of future with. I meant the girls part.”

 

Dean nearly choked on his drink.

 

“Is that problem?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“No,” Dean laughed, thinking back to Lawrence and how he would have had to pretend like it was back there. “No, I just think you purposely set me up for that one.”

 

Castiel smiled, shrugging a little. Dean chuckled a little as he picked up their trays and brought them to be cleared. Castiel stayed behind, watching as Dean went. For the first time, he took a good look at Dean. It wasn’t that he hadn’t looked at him before; he had certainly seen him and how attractive he was, but now he could see everything. The careful way he walked, like someone might yell at him at any moment, the way he flinched away from the louder tables, how each time his back relaxed, he’d force it back into perfect posture, even how his free hand fiddled with the hem of his grey sweater or somehow managed to travel down to the rips of his jeans when he was particularly uncomfortable waiting in a line where everyone could see him. Castiel was lost in it for a few minutes until Dean made his way back to the table.

 

“Well, I should head back to my dorm and get some studying in,” Castiel said, standing up. “I  _ did _ miss my lecture today, too.”

 

“Sorry,” Dean said sheepishly.

 

“Don’t apologize, Winchester,” Castiel chuckled as they walked toward the door.

 

They left the dining hall and turned right toward a quieter street. They walked in silence for a while. Dean went over a few conversational topics in his head. He was largely aware of how little he had learned about Castiel that day, making him slightly uncomfortable with how much he had shared about himself. As the terrifying thought of oversharing or seemingly selfish and vain set in, a new topic popped up in Dean’s head, overshadowing the first.

 

“So why do you still live on campus?” Dean asked.

 

“I can’t really afford anything else,” Castiel said with a shrug. “I mean, my parents offer to buyout a whole apartment complex for me…”

 

“...Like parents do,” Dean said, trying to mask his shock and curiosity in whether or not Castiel was serious. 

 

Castiel smiled, “But I didn’t want to live off of them. They’re helping me through college and working on getting me out of debt, but at the end of the day, I’ve got to handle my own shit. I’m twenty-one, aren’t I?”

 

“What’s your family like?” Dean asked. “They seem comfortable financially, but what are they like?”

 

“Kind of crazy,” Castiel admitted. “They love me and my siblings, but there’s always a lot of drama. What about you?”

 

“Well… My parents divorced when I was four and my mom wasn’t around much, so I kind of took care of my brother, Sam and my dad handled the other stuff.”

 

“What’s Sam like?”

 

“Ha,” Dean smiled at the thought of his younger brother. “He’s smart, real clever. Kind of makes him the rebel of the family. My dad’s prized son, but the one he can’t manage to get along with.”

“That’s rough,” Castiel nodded, suddenly wishing he could be more empathetic. Do you ever talk to your mom?”

 

Dean nodded as they walked closer and closer to Castiel’s dormitory, knocking elbows and fighting the wind. 

 

“She’s more in my life now than when I was growing up and it’s great for Sam, but there’s obvious tension with her and my dad,” Dean shrugged. “Sort of boring stuff.”

 

“It’s not boring if it matters, Dean,” Castiel said. “Not with you… not to me.”

 

Dean resisted the urge to stop right there in the street. He couldn’t understand why Castiel was hanging around still. It didn’t make any sense to him, but he knew better than to ask. He kept walking, letting his hands fidget and his face darken with every word that came from his mouth.  They finally paused in front of a dormitory with a dozen students hanging around it.

 

“This is my dorm,” Castiel told Dean, specifically pointing to a window on the second floor.

 

Castiel studied Dean as he looked over the dorm, taking it in. There could have been a million things running around in his head, but all of them were overshadowed by one question replaying in his mind. Of all the places Dean couldn’t remember and the directions he couldn’t follow, Castiel just needed to know if Dean could find his dorm again. If he  _ would. _ Dean wanted to believe the specifics were an invitation to return. He hoped it was, knowing he’d probably forget where everything was in the days to come. Dean looked around again, taking note of the street, the landmarks, anything he could. It was the red building, the only red building he had seen. That’s all he needed to remember to get back.

 

“I guess I’ll see you around,” Dean said, starting to back away. 

 

“I don’t know, Winchester,” Castiel chuckled, heading in the other direction. “You gonna be able to get to breakfast tomorrow morning?”

 

“We’ll see,” Dean laughed. “I have a tendency to find the food when I need it.”

 

“Come find me,” Castiel said as boldly as he could. “Have breakfast with me and my friends.”

 

“We’ll see,” Dean said, the anxiety of returning setting in. 

“Be there, Dean. I want you there, you got it?”

  
Dean waved Castiel off as he walked down the street. Now he just wasn’t sure how to respond. There was an invitation,  _ right there _ , to see Castiel again and Dean didn’t know how to feel or reply. He kept walking until he was sure Castiel would have his back turned and looked back. He spotted the dark brunette greeting a group of people outside his dorm. Breakfast seemed even more daunting than before now.


	2. Breakfast Buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel extends an invitation while Dean fumes 500 miles away from his dad.

Dean woke up the next morning to a soft thud sounding against the ceiling. He laid in silence for a while, not wanting to bother Arthur or let him know he was even awake. He turned over and scrolled through his phone for a while before glancing up at the clock and deciding he would have to get up then if he wanted to shower. He sat up and spotted Arthur throwing a ball against the wall while, once again, reading a book.

 

“Do you do anything besides read?” Dean asked, climbing down from his bunk.

 

“Sure,” Arthur replied. “I have sex all the time.”

 

“I am  _ painfully _ aware of that,” Dean grumbled as he gathered his things to shower.

 

An hour or so later, it was eight in the morning and Dean was getting dressed. Arthur was long gone for his class by now, leaving Dean alone in their dorm room. He was pulling on his same old ripped jeans and a fresh flannel when he realized he was supposed to meet Castiel that morning. His heart skipped a beat, wondering if he even would. Had he been serious? What if he had forgotten? Dean imagined as many possible scenarios as to why he should go as he could, but none so convincing that his stomach’s argument could be beat. He pulled on his converse and went downstairs, figuring if Castiel was there, then Dean would know for sure.

 

Despite his original hesitations and the convincing he had done to keep his hopes from getting too high, Dean was disappointed when he couldn’t spot Castiel in any of the crowds. He tried to resign himself to the idea that he’d be eating alone, but it no longer felt right. Even after just one afternoon hanging out with Castiel, Dean longed for someone to sit with him. He figured it was natural, no one  _ wanted _ to eat alone, but it hurt more than any natural feeling he’d ever had.

 

Piling fruit onto his plate, Dean let the bustling of the cafeteria flood his ears until they buzzed. He had tuned everything out to the point that he could of sworn he could feel his heart beating and his blood rushing. His jaw tightened and his body tensed, defending against something that wasn’t there. Dean turned away from the line and calmed his nerves, scanning the large room for an open seat.

 

“Over here, Winchester.”

 

Relief washed over Dean as Castiel directed him over to a table by his shoulder. The tight grip and urgentness of Castiel’s pull made it hard to keep his hands firmly placed around the edge of his food tray, but Dean neared the table in just a minute’s time. It appeared to be the same group of guys from the day before in the cafe, now a few girls mixed in now at the breakfast table. They peered up at Dean and Castiel, all scooting a little closer together to fit around the table. Dean could see now that most were sharing seats in an attempt to keep the group all together, as the next clear table was across the room. Castiel pointed to a bench in the center of the group and Dean set his tray down there.

 

Squished together, Dean felt as if all eyes were now on him. It wasn’t nearly true. In fact, most of the table had returned their attention to the end of the group where they rushed over a project for their class later that day. Castiel immediately began enjoying his breakfast, comfortable in the scenario he experienced every day for nearly three years. Dean, on the other hand, could barely manage to get his arm up to his fork. He leaned over to side, subconsciously pressing against Castiel, rather than disturb the half-sleeping student on the other side of him.

 

“So Cas, who’s this?” a blonde girl placed directly in front of Dean asked with a mischievous smile.

 

“This is Dean,” Castiel said with a mouthful of grits and butter making his lips greasy. He elbowed Dean playfully before saying, “I found him wandering around like lost puppy yesterday.”

 

“I was in the wrong lecture hall, not a back alley surrounded by garbage,” Dean scowled.

 

“Relax, Winchester,” Castiel chuckled. “I’m just messing with you. This is Jo.” Castiel pointed to the blonde, but then gestured to another student, reading beside Jo. “That’s Kevin.”

 

“How’d Cas rope you into coming over here?” Kevin asked, looking up from his book and closing the thin cover. “I got lured by a library book he had checked out and I wanted.”

 

“I--I just came,” Dean shrugged. “...Of my own free will.”

 

Kevin sighed, starting to eat his breakfast now. “Lucky.”

 

Dean glanced over at Castiel, laughing nervously and unsure of if he was serious or not. 

 

“He’s not kidding,” Castiel chuckled. “But he’s stayed because he loves us.”

 

“I  _ stayed _ because Castiel keep rene--” Jo shoved a hand over Kevin’s mouth with an innocent smile before he could finish, but Dean got the gist of the situation and laughed a little at their shenanigans. 

 

Kevin shoved Jo’s hand off, returning to his meal after scowling at her for a while.

 

“Dean,” Castiel said, grabbing for Dean’s attention.

 

Dean turned his head to the side, looking at Castiel as he waited for the boy to continue. His hands fidgeted under the table as the blood pumped vigorously through his skull with anticipation. While the world around them never seemed to disappear like it might in a movie or some book Dean had read, Castiel’s pleasant voice sounded just for his ears to hear. He wasn’t asking a private questions or attempting to be secretive, it was only natural. It was natural how easily Castiel could make it clear he was speaking for only one person.

 

“Have you been to the city since the semester’s start?” Castiel asked.

 

“No, I’ve never been,” Dean admitted. “You go often?”

 

Castiel smiled, deciding not to mention the multiple hotels and restaurants his parents had invested in or owned and how often he spent weeks with his friends there just for the fun of it. “Yeah, sometimes… We were gonna head over there for a while tomorrow. Jo, Kevin, a few others… the whole gang. You should come.”

 

Dean’s mind jumped at the thought, falling further, however, when he realized there was no way he could go. “I can’t. I’ll have to study all weekend and you guys won’t have much fun with me anyway. They’re not gonna let me in anywhere.”

 

“You’re full of bull, Dean,” Jo chimed in from across the table. “You’ve gotta come so I won’t be stuck with Bill Nye and James-Dean-Wannabe all night.”

 

“I could be just as bad as them,” Dean laughed, deflecting as best he could. “You don’t know me.”

 

“Give us the chance to,” Kevin said matter-of-factly.

 

Hesitantly, Dean looked over at Castiel. He was waiting patiently for an answer, tapping his foot under the table as the time passed. Truth be told, Castiel didn’t have much of an interest in going at all, but he didn’t have another reason to see Dean. He was fixated on figuring out as much as Dean would allow him; his motives were unknown to even himself. Castiel gave a gentle smile, pushing for Dean to give the right answer.

 

“It’ll be my treat,” Castiel decided for Dean. “Eight o’clock, Winchester. Wear something that won’t embarrass us.”

 

There was no chance to reply for Dean when Castiel stood up from the table and stalked away, ruffling Dean’s hair as he went. Dean was dumbfounded, taking in what had just occurred for a little while too long. He stared as Castiel walked away, turning back to Jo and Kevin when he was out of sight.

 

“I suppose I should be leaving,” Dean said nervously. 

 

“Stick around,” Jo shrugged. “Cas likes you, we do too. Besides, once he decides something, you can’t change Castiel’s mind. He’ll drag you to all his restaurants and he’ll probably show you every rooftop views he’s ever seen.”

 

“That sounds less than horrible,” Dean said, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. He looked back and forth between Jo and Kevin, who now seemed invested in the conversation, though not participating. “He has a lot of favorite restaurants or something?”

 

“No, Castiel  _ owns _ restaurants,” Kevin finally spoke.

 

“Wha… What?” Dean stuttered. He knew Castiel had a wealthy family, but he hadn’t imagined…

 

“Kevin is exaggerating,” Jo assured him. “Cas’s family is big on investments and his dad is a bit of a foodie, it’s not so bad. Had he really not said anything?”

 

“I only met him  _ yesterday _ ,” Dean defended in shock. “But I guess that makes sense,” he began to rationalize. “He mentioned they were wealthy.”

 

“Did he also mention his inability to capitalize on their profits? I’m just saying, we could  _ all _ be in apartments right now and free of debt…” Kevin said sourly.

 

“Yeah,” Dean chuckled, looking down at his hands. “He did.”

 

For the rest of the day, Dean was alone. He excused himself from Jo, Kevin and the rest of the table and returned to his room for a while. He sat in silence, not thinking or doing anything in particular. There were books to read, people to call and studying to be done, but he couldn’t focus well enough to do any of it. He kept coming back to his plans for the next night, wondering how it would go or what might happen. Then he would lose his train of thought and zone out while fiddling with his pocket knife on his bed. 

 

His next class arrived that afternoon just after lunch and for once, he knew where it would take place. Like usual, he had eaten alone, but for once, it had felt less lonely. Dean knew just that morning he had been surrounded by people and in a little more than a day, he’d be in the city with the same people. It was nice. He wasn’t so occupied with what the people around him might be thinking, he wasn’t coming up with excuses as to why he was alone should someone ask, he wasn’t trying to convince himself of the fact that no one cared. He knew they were busy with their own business, stressed and without any time to worry about his affairs. Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he wandered toward his class that day.

 

The next day, Dean skipped breakfast. He had an early communications class and absolutely no time or patiences for the lines that would crowd the cafeteria. He stopped inside the cafe and grabbed some coffee, then walked down the street to his class. It was nice that day, warm enough to keep his teeth from chattering when the sun wasn’t shining on him and cool enough to keep his clothes from sticking to him with sweat. A good day to skip breakfast and take a walk.

 

      He was almost to the right building, taking note of everything he saw, just in case. Dean could feel his breath becoming more shallow as he walked up a hill. He could hear the thud of his footsteps climbing all the way to his ears, beating like hammer. Without much thought, he reached the red building. His feet never bothered to stop, but Dean peered up at the second story window, remembering exactly where Castiel had pointed to. The curtains were drawn back now, but the room was dark and empty. He assumed Cas was at breakfast. The thought made his stomach grumble. He pushed on to his class, finishing just an hour before lunch and feeling starved. 

 

Dean returned to his housing, taking his time as he trudged up the stairs and into his room.

 

“Hey, Man,” Dean greeted, seeing Arthur was hopping around with one shoe on and struggling to get the second. “I won’t be around tonight, just to let you know.”

 

“Cool,” Arthur nodded. “Keep me posted on that location too, I might want to track you like your mom. Or maybe get me the others’ parents’—“

 

“You can shut up now, Arthur,” Dean rolled his eyes. “I was just trying to be considerate. Don’t be a dick.”

 

“Oh, fuck off,” Arthur grumbled, grabbing his jacket and keys before heading out the door.

 

Dean had to laugh, what with that being the longest interaction they had in over a week; the first being when Arthur first explained what he would need Dean to do when there was a sock on the door. Dean, however, never even got the courtesy of a ‘sock’, he could only hope there would be warning signs beforehand. Still, Dean wanted more of a memory of his first college roommate than just the bookworm with his tongue down someone’s throat. He knew it would probably take more effort than Dean wanted to give, though.

 

For while, Dean sat at his desk. He skimmed through his books, trying to study, but the growling in his stomach was overwhelming. He went to lunch, eating quickly and leaving even quicker. Dean could see Castiel and his friends across the room. He considered sitting with them for a while, maybe finding out what the plan was for that night. Instead, he again went back to his dorm, alone. This time, he stared at his phone, his finger held tentatively over his home phone number. Closing his eyes tight, Dean hit the number and let the line ring in his ear.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Sammy,” Dean smiled at the growing voice. “How you doing?”

 

“I’m alright,” Sam said through the phone, the sound of his footsteps pounding up the stairs of their house in the background. “Been working with Dad. I learned to change oil last week.”

 

“Yeah? How’s school?” Dean asked, leaning against his bedroom door.

 

Sam hesitated for a fraction of a second, immediately telling Dean what he had been wondering. “It--It’s good. Dad actually taught me--”

 

“Sam, how’s school?” Dean asked. “You’re still going, right? You have enough time to study. Freshman year is important, Sammy, you gotta--”

 

“It’s fine, Dean,” Sam said sharply. “I only missed a couple days and my teachers just think I’m sick.”

 

“No,” Dean shook his head, slamming a hand against his small closet door. “No, you’ve got to tell him, Sam. Tell him no, tell him you’re going to school. Talk to Mom, Sam!”

 

“Mom… Mom’s been gone for a little bit,” Sam said, his voice quieting. “She had some business and Dad got angry… They… They just decided it was better for Mom to leave and Dad to stay.”

 

“Fuck!” Dean yelled, his foot slamming a dent into the plastic box holding his books on the floor. He took a deep breath, wincing. “I… I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to yell… Just please try to get to school, okay? An--And call me if he keeps you home too often, okay? I can come home, Sam. I can, okay?”

 

“No! No, no, Dean. You have to stay and go to college,” Sam said. There was another pounding in the background. “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

 

“Wait, Samm--”

 

Dean stared down at his phone once again, watching as the call was cut on the other end. His teeth gritted and his hand gripped the cell phone tight enough to turn his knuckles white. He wanted to throw something, break something, yell and scream like his Dad always had. Dean cursed himself for the thought, flopping down on his bed. He was lost in his own thoughts for a while, not asleep, but still not conscious to his surroundings.

  
  


There was only an hour or so until Castiel planned on leaving for the city. He had been restless all day, making plans, cleaning out his car, altogether ensuring everything would be perfect. He had been told a few times by his friends that his nights in the city were overdramatic or too extravagant, but he didn’t see the point in spending money if not for good memories. 

 

“You’re being insane this time, you know?” Jo asked as she leaned against Castiel’s blue Ford Fiesta. “Like mentally, diagnosably insane?”

 

“This really isn’t that crazy,” Castiel groaned, hanging upside down from the passenger’s seat to look underneath the glove box. “I’m just making sure my car is clean.”

 

“You’re literally swiping the same piece of leather with a Q-tip for no reason and claiming it never looks right,” Jo said, rolling her eyes. 

 

“Relax, Jo,” Kevin chuckled, sitting cross-legged on the hood. “Cas is just trying to impress Dean.”

 

“What about it?” Castiel asked confidently as he climbed out the car to stare Kevin and Jo in the eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with trying to make a good first impression.”

 

Jo shifted from the car door to stand near the front of the car, across from Castiel and putting Kevin between them. “There’s nothing wrong with having crush, just don’t go psychopath on us because of it.”

 

“Don’t you have a class to get to, Jo?” Castiel asked, narrowing his eyes at the blonde. “You should get there. Now.”

 

“Whatever,” Jo said, rolling her eyes again. “I’ll see you guys tonight.” She stalked away, leaving the boys alone.   
  


Castiel climbed back into the car and picked up his cleaning supplies. Kevin slid off from the top of the car and stretched. He wandered over to Castiel, making it easier to have a conversation between the two.

 

“You’re not going to ditch us tonight, are you?” Kevin asked. “Last time you--”

 

“Last time I was blackout drunk,” Castiel laughed. In an instant, he was pointing a finger at Kevin. “Don’t tell that story tonight.”

 

“No promises,” Kevin said with a shrug. “Listen, don’t get your hopes up about Dean coming tonight, alright?”

 

“What are you talking about? Dean’s coming,” Castiel said, no doubt in his mind that he was right. Dean would come, he knew it.

 

“Just… I know you’re excited and I like him too, but I think you’re a little too excited,” Kevin said as Castiel swung his feet off the side of the car, still sitting on the passenger’s seat. “He seemed like he was interested after you left, but I think you’re just more… forward than he is. Besides, don’t pretend like you didn’t see him this afternoon. He was avoiding us during lunch.”

 

“If he wants to sit alone, that’s his business,” Castiel said, running a hand through his hair. “He’s not obligated to hangout with us every meal.”

 

“You’re right,” Kevin sighed. “He probably just had a class right after and needed to rush.”

 

Dean, now distracted, inspected what he thought might be a scratch in his door. “Nah, he only has a class early this morning,” he said, casually. 

 

“Oh?” Kevin asked. “Yeah, you’re not overly invested in someone you just met…”

 

Castiel glared at Kevin before replying, “I showed him where everything was. That’s how we met, Kevin. Now I know his schedule. It’s not that big of a deal.”

 

“Sure, that’s not gonna become an obsession,” Kevin said, sarcastically. “Just don’t get too attached.”

 

“I invited him to hangout with us in the city for a night,” Castiel said, confident in his decision and what he had planned to come from that night. “That’s all, Kev. I’m not proposing he marry Jo or something.”

 

“Oh, Dean’s… Okay,” Kevin nodded, pacing between the front and back end of the car. 

 

“What? Dean’s what?”

 

“Straight?”

 

“I don’t know, Man,” Castiel said, exasperated. “I met him two days ago and purely with the intent to be his friend, which is why I invited him with us tonight. You’re overthinking it.”

 

“And he knows you’re gay?” Kevin asked. 

 

“Yes, Kevin,” Castiel groaned. “He doesn’t care. It’s twenty-eighteen.”

 

“Whatever you say,” Kevin said, genuinely. “I’m heading back to my dorm; I’ve got some homework to do. See you later.”

 

“Yeah, later,” Castiel nodded, wavin him off as he finished working on his car.

 

It was one of the few things he agreed to keep from his parents. He figured as long as he paid for the insurance, any maintenance it would need and gas, his parents being the original owners wouldn’t mean much anymore. It wasn’t very personal to him, if he was honest. There was no emotional attachment, but it was  _ his  _ car; he took good care of it.

 

When his car was finished, Castiel walked back to his dorm and showered. He dressed in a navy button down and khaki pants with brown loafers. He didn’t bother with his hair, as usual, but when he glanced at the clock, he realized he didn’t have time even if he wanted to. He grabbed his wallet, keys and phone and shoved them in his pocket. Racing across campus, he made it Dean’s dormitory, just in time to see him heading out the door.


	3. Back Alley Behavior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes on Tran and Castiel's city plans hit the fan.

He knew that it wasn’t his finest hour or the most mature way to handle the situation, but Dean couldn’t imagine facing Castiel in that moment. After his phone call with Sam, he could feel his blood boiling. He wanted to call his dad and chew him out, he could have gone straight home and punched the man with no regrets -- even in the next light when he was bloody and bruised, not to mention, utterly screwed. No, he couldn’t yell at his dad, but he always didn’t think he could just pretend nothing had happened. He couldn’t ignore that somewhere in Kansas, his little brother was being treated just how he had been.  _ Damnit, he wanted to teach his dad a good lesson.  _

 

He felt bad about it, but Dean was going to ditch Castiel and Jo and Kevin and he was gonna eat dinner alone and sulk. He was going to sit in his dorm and refuse to leave when Arthur Ketch came in. Dean figured it was the most he could do without causing any real damage, but man did he want to cause some damage. So, he wandered down the stairs of the dormitory and walked in the dark to the cafeteria. 

 

“Dean Winchester!”

 

Dean grimaced, knowing it had to be Castiel calling his name. He turned around, faced with the fact.

 

“Castiel,” Dean said, clearing his throat and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Hey.”

 

“You ready to go?” Castiel asked. “We’re gonna grab dinner on the way to a show so don’t worry about eating”-- Dean tried to just be honest, but Castiel couldn’t stop blabbering and looking so damn excited --”I think you’ll like the band. You seem like a rock guy. Is that what you’re wearing?”-- there was just too much child-like wonder-- “No offense, but these are sort of high end places. Let’s go--”

 

“...No,” Dean shook his head. This was exactly what his dad would have been pissed off about. He would have said Dean was taking advantage of a friend and being dumb, wasting money he could have used for the family. “Sorry, I know I’m running a little late, just let me change.”

 

Castiel smiled so wide it startled Dean. No one had particularly cared when he turned down offers before. “I’ll help you choose,” Castiel decided, following Dean inside the dormitory and up the stairs to his room.

 

There was a thick silence as Castiel leaned against the wall, arms crossed and his face expressionless, yet oddly content. Dean rummaged through his clothing and the least beat up shoes he owned. He figured nothing he owned was as nice as what Castiel owned, but there wasn’t much he could do about now. 

 

“Here,” Castiel said, handing him a rich, green colored button down from his pile of clothes. “Wear your ripped jeans… the Converse as well.”

 

Dean hesitated, looking over at Castiel to see if he was paying attention. It had never bothered him to get dressed in front of Arthur and Arthur certainly had no problem doing anything in front of Dean. He wasn’t sure if it would make Castiel uncomfortable, however. He started to undress when he noticed Castiel’s attention fixed on his phone. He only looked up when Dean was preparing to button his shirt.

 

“You’re so uptight,” Castiel commented, stepping forward and moving Dean’s fingers away from the last couple of buttons. “Leave these two undone… Now. You look hot.”

 

Dean was surprised by Castiel’s words in a way he hadn’t expected to be, but thanked him nonetheless. Maybe he had ruined it by thanking him, but he wasn’t sure how else to reply.

 

It wasn’t too long after that Castiel had approved Dean to leave. They left Dean’s dorm again and walked toward the parking lot Castiel had stashed in car in. They could see Jo, Kevin and Duma, a woman unfamiliar to Dean, all waiting patiently for them when they arrived.

 

“Look who decided to show up,” Jo said, the breeze blowing her curls to the side. “I thought we’d have to walk.”

 

Again, Castiel smiled and called, “As if you could even get in anywhere without me.”

 

Dean watched as Castiel walked ahead, continuing to quarrel lightheartedly with Jo and Kevin. He reached the small, blue car and glanced inside through the passenger’s window. If he was honest, Dean wasn’t impressed. He was used to extravagant, antique cars and random vehicles no one else knew how to fix or even classify. He was used to  _ his _ car. Seeing Castiel’s made him realize how much he wished he could have brought it up that year, but he’d have to wait until his sophomore, per the university’s parking rules.  

 

“Hey, you’re Dean, right?” the unfamiliar girl asked, leaning down to catch Dean’s eye. “I’m Duma.”

 

“Yeah, uh…” Dean held out his hand and Duma gladly took it. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“Castiel mentioned to a few of us that you were coming,” Duma said, she offered a mischievous smile as if she shouldn’t have been speaking to him. “He was making sure we were all on our best behavior, but I think he just wanted an excuse to gush about you.”

Dean could feel his face heat up, now. “Ha, yeah… So how many people are coming?”

 

“With us? Just this group,” Duma shrugged. “I’m sure five or six more people will meet up with us later though.”

 

Dean swallowed hard, looking over at Castiel. “Oh, alright.”

 

When Castiel had worked out their plans with everyone -- dinner, show in some little bar hidden away in the city, club, luxury hotel room just to be sure they didn’t drink and drive -- they climbed into the car. Kevin, Jo and Duma squeezed into the back, rubbing shoulders and complaining, while Castiel drove and Dean sat shotgun. He certainly wasn’t upset about not being between Jo and Kevin’s arguing, but he did feel bad that he was he only passenger that was sitting comfortably.

 

“So, since you obviously were planning on ditching us tonight,” Castiel started, immediately making Dean feel guilty. “What were your plans for tonight?”

 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously. There really was no point in lying. Wringing his hands, he said, “I was just gonna hang out in my room, I guess. To be honest, I haven’t had the best day.”

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

Dean glanced at Castiel. He kept his hands firmly on the steering wheel and waited, genuinely, for Dean to continue. Dean’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his lap. After a moment of thinking, he looked back up and out the window.

 

“It’s dumb family stuff,” Dean said, easing into what he wanted to yell and scream about. He wouldn’t yell and scream, but he might let Castiel hear a little of it while the others were preoccupied. “My dad… He’s being the same old bastard to my brother that he was to me and I swear, if he convinced my brother school isn’t important, I’ll beat his ass. It’s bad enough I’m a dumbass, Sammy has a future if he wants it.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel started. Dean half expected him to shut the conversation down, tell him that he had shared too much too fast. “You’re an engineer major. I mean, unless you lied about that, but I don’t think you did. You’re obviously smart. As for your family, I never went through anything like this and maybe I can’t help, but you seem capable of fixing anything that gets in your way. You raised Sam, don’t forget it, he’s gonna fight for what he wants, just like you.”

 

“Damnit,” Dean scoffed with a smirk. 

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” Dean shook his head.  _ Just that you’ve known me for two days and are already better for me than anyone else who’s ever been in my life. _ “Thank you.”

 

Castiel just smiled, continuing to drive toward the city, now glimmering in the distance.

 

Awhile later, they stopped and got burgers on their way into the city. Castiel was adamant about no one spilling and all Dean could do was snort. He could respect the love of a car, but this time it made him laugh.

 

“What?” Castiel asked.

 

“Nothing,” Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s just that… I don’t know…”

 

“You have a problem with me and my car, Winchester?” Castiel asked, stilling smiling.

 

“No, no,” Dean said. “I have the same thing with my car, but my car is… it’s a ‘67 Impala, your’s is…”

 

“Excuse me?” Castiel asked, his mouth full. “I’m sorry, is my car not good enough for you?”

 

“Look, it’s not your fault you don’t know what a real car is--”

 

“I will kick you out right now.”

 

“No, you won’t,” Dean laughed.

 

“Try me, Winchester.”

 

There was silence in the car now. Kevin was scrolling through his phone while Duma looked over his shoulder and Jo had borrowed the book Kevin finished earlier that day. Dean stared out the window, only watching Castiel’s reflection every once in a while. He really wasn’t paying attention, he was enthralled with the city flying past the car, but he couldn’t help but glance over when he caught Castiel shifting or when he thought Castiel might be looking at him. Even driving, however, Castiel found himself doing the same. His eyes were focused on the road and driving safely, but Dean fidgeted a lot. He couldn’t help himself, it was like a reflex. Dean was interesting to watch -- in a non-creepy, stalkerish way. 

 

“Look alive,” Castiel said, suddenly. He slammed his hand down on the horn, letting the noise blend in with the outside noise, but startle those inside the car.

 

“You’re an asshole,” Kevin grumbled after jumping six feet from his body. “We’re not even there yet.”

 

“Shut up, Tran,” Castiel said. “We’re like two seconds away from parking. Be ready to go, I don’t want to be late. Their opening is always the best part.”

 

“Who are we going to see?” Dean asked, unable to peel his eyes away from the bustling city completely surrounding him.

 

“Patterned Bones,” Castiel said. “It’s an indie rock band I tracked down a few years ago. They circle back and play at this old bar downtown every month or so. We usually try to catch the show.”

 

Dean nodded along as they parked in a nearly empty garage. As the five of the collected themselves and threw away any trash from dinner, Dean saw a white pickup truck pull in just a few spots away from them. He recognized a few faces from breakfast the day before as they jumped out the vehicle. The group went to greet the newcomers and Dean turned to Castiel anxiously. 

 

“That’s Duma’s boyfriend and his friends,” Castiel explained, gesturing to the three ‘macho men’. “Gadreel, Noah and Thomas. Don’t worry, they’ll be wasted and headed home by midnight. That’s mostly why Duma drove with us. She’s gotta drive them home and didn’t wanna get pressured into pregaming with them.”

 

“Wow,” Dean chuckled. “You’ve got quite the crew, Cas.”

 

“Nah,” Castiel shook his head, pushing Dean forward by the small of his back. “I like to stick to Jo and Kev, and you.”

 

Dean smirked to himself, walking forward. 

As Castiel had previously made clear, he was in no mood to wait around and chat. In a matter of seconds, he had rounded up their group and ushered them in the direction of the bar, making sure everyone got there without any issues. Dean stayed to the back of the group, listening to the conversations going on, but distant in his own mind. He found himself lingering on the families that walked by him; the couples, the dads and their kids, the moms and their kids, even a few people just walking their dogs in the city’s night light. He watched a boy learn to drive on a back alley, his hair flying in all directions while his dad told him he’d need a haircut before he could even turn on the blinker properly. Dean smiled for a moment, thinking of his quick driving lesson with Sam before he left; the first time Sam had ever driven. But it went sour. His’s body tensed and his fists clenched, making his jaw tight as he remembered the first time he had been allowed to drive. The yelling that came from just taking too long to switch gears. Dean took a deep breath and pushed up to the front of the group. He eyed up Castiel and summoned all his angry courage, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

Castiel looked over, startled. His rigid posture relaxed and his lips curved into a smile. An arm snaked its way around Dean’s waist, daring to pull him a little closer as they walked, just a few blocks from the bar.

 

“What was the first concert you ever went to?” Castiel asked, looking up at Dean.

 

“Aerosmith,” Dean remembered, fondly. “I was ten. Steven Tyler reminded me of a monkey.”

 

“What?” Castiel laughed, throwing his head back. “ _ Steven Tyler reminded you of a monkey? _ ”

 

“Vaguely, yes,” Dean chuckled. “What about you? Who’d you see?”

 

“Well, keep in mind, I was ten, too,” Castiel stalled, nervously. “And it wasn’t my choice, I only went because my family made me go with my cousins… Paramore.”

 

“Paramore?!” Dean questioned, throwing himself into a laughing fit and forcing his body to untangled itself from Castiel. “ _ Two thousand seven, _ Paramore?”

 

“You thought Steven Tyler looked like a monkey!” Castiel threw up in defense. 

 

“He does!” Dean cackled. “I still think he does! I feel bad because the guy’s a legend, but he does.  _ You _ went to see Paramore when you were ten and I bet you liked it.”

 

“‘Riot!’ will always have a special place in my heart,” Castiel chuckled.

“You’re the worst,” Dean shook his head. 

 

“Tell me that again after you hear this band,” Castiel challenged as they walked up to the entrance of the bar. 

 

The group of eight walked inside the dark room and saw the band entering the stage just in time. Castiel dragged Dean straight up to the front, making sure he really got to hear the music. The remaining six grabbed drinks and as many chairs as they could track down. Dean closed his eyes, blocking out anything that wasn’t Patterned Bones. It was such a strange thing for his ears to experience. The choir-like background threw off his perception of the hard drums and twangy guitar, quickly cut off by an electric guitar riff somewhere in the noise. His eyes opened and he tried to judged what he was feeling. Castiel smiled at him from the corner of his eye, watching the same feelings he had experienced the first time he heard them play wash over Dean years later.

The song ended and they took a seat with the rest of the crowd. Dean breathed heavily, still mulling over the lyrics and beat while Castiel went to hunt down the bartender. He returned with whiskey and rum, switching his hands back and forth between himself and Dean as if to ask which one he would want.

 

“What if I said I was more of a wine person?” Dean asked.

 

“If I brought a ‘wine person’ into this bar and bought him a drink, please, tell me so that I can go reevaluate my taste in people,” Castiel joked, shaking his head. 

 

Dean smiled, taking the whiskey. “I’ve been drinking whiskey since I was fourteen,” Dean shared. “I think it’s like my water now.”

 

“Then I won’t feel so bad buying you drinks everywhere we go tonight,” Castiel laughed. “I’m not a big drinker anyway, it won’t seem suspicious if I only buy one.”

 

“From what Kevin and Jo tell me, you could probably buy yourself out of any problem we run into tonight,” Dean said, curious as to what Castiel’s side of the story was. 

 

Castiel’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. “Kevin and Jo talk too much,” Castiel said, glancing over at them as they did shots over a plate of cheap hot wings. “I’m not that rich or important. It’s my parents, really. I’ve got a job and some pull from the name, but you say Chuck or Naomi Novak to the right person and suddenly, doors are open everywhere. I hate it.”

 

“Why? You could get so many good places that way.”

 

“Not to give the typical ‘rich kid, “woe is me”’ speech, but I’d rather have worked for it,” Castiel said. “I considered changing my name for a while, you know? I was nearly Castiel Edlund, but that just felt weird. I wanted to distance myself from my family, but I thought that would just turn me into an even bigger source of conversation.”

 

“I get it,” Dean nodded. “Not the whole rich kid thing, but wanting to make your own name. I’ve always been ‘Dean Winchester, John’s kid’ or ‘that one with the giant younger brother and messy parents’. Probably a few other things too, but you get my point.”

 

“You really have a giant brother?” Castiel asked with a smirk, knowing he had dropped the whole point of what Dean was saying.

 

“You suck,” Dean shook his head. “But yeah, he’s fucking massive. He’s fourteen and 5’9. Grows a centimeter every week and that’s just his hair.”

 

Castiel’s smiled into his glass. He tried to take a sip, but imaging Dean’s brother made him snort and pull the glass away before he could choke and spill it. “I’m sorry, but I’m just… I’m imagining some giant… moose.”

 

“He is!” Dean exclaimed with a grin. “He’s a moose and it’s horrible. Good thing he’s got a baby face, though, I still look older than him.”

 

“Careful if you bring him around campus,” Castiel laughed. “You may end up losing all your chances with the girls.”

 

“If the girls at school are all such pedos and cougars, I’m better off with just the guys. Hang on, I’m gonna go pee.” Dean rushed off to the bathroom across the room.

 

The music rung out into a low hum in the back of Castiel’s head as he watched Dean wander off, still shaking as he laughed to himself. He replayed the last thing Dean had said over and over, not letting his brain forget it until it was filed away somewhere special in his head. When Dean’s turn came and he disappeared into the bathroom, Castiel turned to Kevin, unable to control his smile. 

 

“You look like you just roofied him,” Kevin deadpanned.

 

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed. “That’s not funny. And no, he’s just…”

 

“Hot, adorable, a total babe, the love of your life?” Kevin listed.

“...Funny. He’s funny, Kevin,” Castiel said. “Unlike you. But you know what? He is cute and… and I think I might…”

 

“Hey, how long is their set?” Dean asked, returned from the bathroom. “I feel like we’ve been here for like two minutes, but it’s almost ten thirty.”

 

“Woah, already?” Castiel asked, turning around to face Dean while attempting to hide the flush of his cheeks in the shadows of the dim bar lighting. “We’re supposed to be heading out of here by now.”

 

“Yeah, uh, Cas?” Duma called from a couple chairs away. “The guys and I are gonna hang around here for a while, we’ll catch y’all later at the club, okay?”

 

“You sure?” Jo asked, giving Duma a look that Dean immediately recognized as a you-don’t-have-to-babysit-these-idiots-if-it-makes-you-uncomfortable kind of expression. “Should I hang around? I wouldn’t mind finishing my drink.”

 

“Nah, go on ahead,” Duma said. Her smile seemed genuine, Dean wasn’t worried, and Jo seemed to relax, which was assuring. “See you guys later.”

 

Castiel, Jo, Kevin and Dean said their quick goodbyes, polished off their glasses and headed out onto the street, letting the music fade out from their rattling heads. Castiel directed them down a dark street, claiming it was a shortcut and perfectly safe, but contradicting himself by insisting they stick closer. This was an excuse, for Dean, to let his hand swing accidently hitting Castiel’s a few times before stopping just beside it. His heart was racing like he was twelve again, wondering if Castiel had even noticed or just thought he was taking his instructions well.

 

There was a sense of rebellion in Dean’s bones that night. Not just from the rage of what his dad was doing back in Lawrence, but from his own newfound -- and it  _ was  _ new -- recklessness. It felt good, like a constant buzz. The ability to just say ‘yes’ to himself, to Castiel, to anyone who wanted anything. It made him want to run and jump and scream until his lungs bled because he  _ could. _ He almost did. He almost let out a roar and took off down the alley, letting his hair blow in every direction and his whole body freeze in the fall air. He didn’t though.

He would have, had it not been that Castiel did exactly what he had hinted at. Dean’s heart skipped a beat and did the running for him when he felt Castiel’s warm hand entangle with his fingers. Dean didn’t dare look over at him, but he could tell Castiel was looking at him now. Thinking what, Dean didn’t know, but he could only hope it was good.

 

“The last time we came to this club, Gadreel’s buddies got us all kicked out,” Kevin informed Dean. “It was bad. They started a fight and then protested us getting kicked out for so long that even security had to call the real cops. Thankfully, all of us innocence ditched before the police came, but Noah and Thomas stuck around just long enough to land themselves a night in holding.”

 

“Wow,” Dean laughed, imagining the racket. “And they let y’all back in?”

 

“We’re hoping they won’t remember us,” Castiel shrugged. “I mean, we weren’t really the problem.”

 

“Great plan,” Dean said, nodding as they reached the end of the alleyway and came to the street. “I especially like the getting kicked out part.”

 

“Be as snarky as you want, Winchester,” Castiel said. “But this place is worth a little hassle. Not that you would know, you’ve probably never been in a club.”

 

“Your first concert is tainted,” Dean said, bumping Castiel. “I still win.”

 

“Wait, how is his first concert tainted?” Jo asked, eagerly. She pushed through the boys and disconnecting them.

 

“It’s not—!”

 

“He saw Paramore!” Dean laughed again, finding it just as funny the second time. “In two thousand seven! That’s horrible!”

 

“Could be worse,” Kevin shrugged. “I saw the Wiggles Live.”

 

“ _ What?! _ ” Jo, Castiel and Dean screeched in unison. 

 

They walked on for a block, mocking Kevin so much they nearly forgot about Castiel or the club. It wasn’t until they bumped into a line outside they remembered where they were even going. Castiel sauntered toward the bouncer, making his friends clump up behind him. Dean nearly laughed as Castiel approached like a scene in a coming-of-age rom-com his mom might watch. But when he returned with a smile, Dean figured those scenes might be more legit than he thought because they were all going in without Dean even needing to flash a fake ID.

 

“Calm down,” Castiel said, leaning in close to ensure Dean could hear him over the noise. “You’re gonna look like a virgin in a strip club.”

 

“I’m calm, I’m just excited,” Dean said, smiling as he leaned into Castiel.

 

“For what?”

 

“What do you mean? Tonight, having fun,” Dean said. “What else?”

 

“I don’t know,” Castiel chuckled. “I’m just asking.”

 

Dean shook his head, smiling as they entered a large room. Blue and purple lights flooded a large section of the room while a few dimmer lights lit a courtyard of tables and fountains. A waterfall separated the two sides, falling between a bar and shining pink. Dean wasn’t sure where to look first.

 

“This place is even better than I remembered,” Jo beamed, looking up at blanket of stars over their heads. 

 

“If by better you mean overwhelming and neurotic.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “They could chill with all the lights and quiet down the music and this place would be even better.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Dean chuckled. “Don’t be a stick in the mud. This is cool.”

 

“You don’t have anything to compare it to,” Kevin reminded before stalking off with Castiel to get drinks.

 

Dean and Jo searched through the crowds for an empty space. In the corner of the room, beside the waterfall and away from most of the others, Dean spotted an empty booth. He pulled Jo over, claiming it before anyone else could. They settled in as Castiel and Kevin returned.

 

“Shots, shots, shots,” Castiel sang as he set them all down.

 

“Yeah, I’ve got to study tomorrow, but let’s get fucked!” Jo said with fake enthusiasm as she pumped her hands in the air. 

 

Kevin and Castiel took their seats before they all picked a glass. Counting to three, they knocked them back, then another and another.

 

“You’re not so bad for a teenager,” Kevin taunted after Castiel and Jo left for more drinks. 

 

“Not my first rodeo,” Dean shrugged, sipping an Old Fashioned as he waited. 

 

“Wanna see if you can keep up with me?” Kevin asked. 

 

“I don’t really have any question that I could, but sure, Kevin, I’ll bite,” Dean said with a shrug.

 

When Jo and Castiel came back, they were forced to forfeit all their shots and keep track of Dean and Kevin’s hijinks. They waited a few rounds, expecting someone to tap out, but neither did. Dean made sure to show off, taking a sip of his drink between every shot. Kevin sped up, making his throat burn and eyes narrow every time Dean matched his time and count. 

 

“Maybe that’s enough,” Jo laughed, watching their competition get worse and worse.

 

Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand from across the table before he could take another shot, “That’s about to hit you really hard, Winchester. Let’s stop now.”

 

Kevin and Dean decided on a truce, promising to settle it with something less detrimental to their livers. Just before the group hit the dance floor, however, Dean downed the last shot in front of Castiel to prove a point. Something Castiel would bring up to Kevin at a later date. They crossed the room and blended into the crowd of dancing clubbers.

 

For a while, the four of them lost each other. It seemed every time they could catch of glimpse of one of their friends they would disappear by the time they blinked. It wasn’t so bad until Castiel moved off toward the side, away from the DJ and took a breather. He glanced at his cellphone and panicked. He hadn’t seen Duma and the guys come in, nor had they texted and now he had lost Kevin, Jo and Dean. 

 

_ God _ , he thought.  _ Dean’s somewhere in there alone… No, not alone. Surrounded by half dressed clubbers.  _ That had to worse. Dean was new to this. Dean couldn’t handle this.  _ You can’t handle it, Castiel. You’ve barely met the boy and look at you, you’ve lost him to people who know him even less than you do. _

 

Castiel dove back into the crowd. He saw Jo now and was determined not to lose her. Thankfully, she saw him to. She threw her arms around him and they danced for a while until the mist in Castiel’s mind cleared for long enough for him to remember what he needed to do. He pulled Jo along and saw Kevin, stumbling toward the wall to keep from falling over. 

_ Dean’s even worse off, he has to be. _

 

The three of them were searching now, but he was nowhere to be seen. Jo retreated with Kevin to the booth and Castiel followed them into the next room, but only to search the second crowd. He was all spun around, dizzy and confused when Duma waved at him frantically. And there was Dean, just talking. He was just talking to Duma as if he hadn’t gone missing. Castiel figured now that he _ hadn’t _ been missing, not to everyone, just to him. He pushed forward and grabbed Dean by the shoulder.

 

“We lost you for a minute there,” Castiel said with a nervous chuckle. 

 

“He’s been here, gushing about some random day at school,” Duma said, more than happy to pass Dean off when she turned and saw Gadreel, Noah and Thomas behind her. “Oh, shit!”

 

Castiel glanced away from Dean’s incoherent babbling and his eyes went wide. He balanced Dean against a table and rushed to help Duma pull Noah and Thomas away from Gadreel, who had conveniently started a fight between his  _ own _ friends this time. 

There was barely any time for Castiel to grab Thomas when Noah swung at Gadreel, elbowing Duma in the face in the process. Seeing his girlfriend, Gadreel flew into a blind rage, tackling Noah down. Castiel struggled to keep Thomas out of it when Dean jumped in on instinct. Castiel was panic stricken and loosen his grip just enough for Thomas to get away, making it a foursome on the soon-to-be bloody floor. Jo and Kevin had come over now, barely standing after the adrenaline had faded. Security, thankfully, jumped in, separating the four boys and sending the entire group out for the second time. 

 

“Damnit,” Castiel cursed, the ground outside spinning around him and his head pounding. He stumbled toward Duma, mumbling out the hotel name as they both got separate Ubers for the party of eight. 


	4. Hangover Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild nights turn into daytime frights as Castiel faces his questions about the night before and Dean makes an unnerving phone call home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short, but hopefully the next will be longer. Thanks for reading :)

Duma and Castiel did their best to separate everyone involved in the fight. They made sure Gadreel was far from Noah and Thomas and Kevin was away from those two, just in case he decided to stir the pot. They tried their best and maybe Duma remembered their reasoning, but once the Ubers arrived, all Castiel could remember was that he was squished in the back of the car with Noah and Thomas, while Jo was all the way in the back alone. It was a less than comfortable situation, but they pulled up to the hotel just before Noah or Thomas hurled all over Castiel.

 

“Here’s the key.”

 

Castiel tried to keep his eyes open, smile, stand up properly and walk straight all together as he took the key to a suite on the top floor of his parent’s hotel. He imagined he looked like a pigeon or toddler after just waking up. The image floating around in his head of both of those things made him laugh more than he wanted to admit. His friends, however, weren’t feeling so humorous as they waited to crash upstairs. The eight of them all packed into an elevator and searched for the right room. By the end of it, Castiel was pretty sure they were all just bad at math. There were only four suites on the top floor and three were occupied and obviously so.

 

When they had finally entered the room and settled in, Duma decided it was just best to get Gadreel and his friends back to campus, so she gathered them up and escorted them out. Kevin and Jo crashed on the couch, both snoring peacefully. Castiel hid in the bathroom for the first few minutes, ditching every article of clothing he wore except his underwear. He was sweaty and nauseous, waiting anxiously over the toilet to throw up. It never came, but he was happy to see Fight Club had left by the time he came out. He threw himself onto the king sized, white bed and sighed. Beside him, Dean was curled into a ball, his eyebrows knit and his hands clutching his stomach. He looked miserable, but he managed to ditch his shoes, which seemed like a good sign. Assuming he hadn’t just left them somewhere in the city.

 

“I’m never coming to the city with you again,” Dean groaned, stretching out and struggling to look at Castiel. His eyes flicked around like he wasn’t sure where to focus, Castiel figured he was seeing double and really didn’t know which was real. “I feel like I’m burning from the inside out and I can’t even throw up to relieve the pain.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel sighed, holding tight to a fluffy, white pillow. “I wasn’t planning for that to happen.”

 

“Yeah, I guess not,” Dean grumbled, closing his eyes again despite his best efforts. He was half asleep now, barely functioning. “Maybe I’ll come back with just you.”

 

“Dean… I can…”

“What?” Dean asked through a yawn.

 

“Nevermind,” Castiel said, closing his eyes as well. “Good night.”

 

Dean reached across and tapped Castiel’s chest. “Good night, Cas.” His hand fell limp just moments later, resting still on Castiel’s chest. He fell asleep without moving, trying not to ruin Dean’s peaceful sleep.

 

Not of his own free will, or because of any particular reason, Castiel sat in silence, unable to sleep for what felt like hours. He could feel his body go limp, his eyes droop, desperate for even a little rest. He wanted to sleep, too, but his mind spun at a million miles per hour and he couldn’t help himself from staying awake. He stared up at the ceiling, shifting his feet, one after the other over and over again.

 

The time ticked away until it was nearly three o’clock. Castiel was surprised, if he was honest, that it wasn’t later. He had expected the night to go so differently it seemed they should have just been getting to the hotel. He imagined for a moment how it should have gone. He knew for a fact he wasn’t supposed to be laying in that bed, not next to Dean while he wished he was asleep and questioned what he would say in the morning. He kept replaying the parts of the night that hadn’t been blurred out. He came back each time to Dean just jumping right into the fight. He didn’t know Gadreel or Thomas or Noah, he had no clue what was going on and still, he fell in line with them. It was so natural he had done it while looking on the verge of throwing up, too. Castiel looked at his face, now, the one snoring and drooling like nothing had happened, and wondered what was going through his mind.

 

When they woke the next morning, Dean found it hard to even consider it the morning. It was nearly lunchtime. He was starving, his head screamed at him for his antics the night before and he was oddly sore. He tried to stand and walk, dragging his feet against the rug beneath the bed, but he swayed to the side, catching himself on a desk chair. Sweat started to gather at the creases of his face, he took a deep breath and charged on, into the kitchenette. 

 

“Morning, Sunshine,” Castiel said, sipping a mug of coffee on the countertop with his eyes barely even open.

 

“This… I think this is what death feels like,” Dean said, taking a seat across from Castiel at “the barstools. “What the hell did I do last night?”

 

“Heh,” Castiel chuckled, pushing his questions about the fight aside. “You competed with Kevin and won, that’s what, Winchester. You deserve a metal.”

“Don’t get a big head,” Kevin groaned from the couch. “We called truce and you cheated.”

 

“A real competitor never calls a truce,” Jo said, sitting by the window and soaking in the little sunlight anyone could handle. “You win or lose, no breaks, no ties, that’s it.”

 

Kevin rolled his eyes at Jo and turned back to the other two boys, mocking her. Dean laughed a little, making his head pound harder. Castiel just shook his head, pushing coffee toward Dean. 

 

“We should get moving soon,” Castiel said. “We’ve got to walk back to the car by two and check out here is by one. Anyone want to drive? I got zero sleep last night.”

 

Dean shook his head, resting it on the counter and Kevin just glared. Jo sighed. “I’ll do it. Only so no one dies, but you guys all owe me.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, always,” Castiel sighed. “Kevin and I are in your debt for the rest of our lives, that’s why we still hangout with you.”

 

“Why do I feel like I just joined a cult by getting drunk and earning a nice ass hangover?” Dean asked, rubbing his temples with concern.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll let  _ you  _ off the hook for this one,” Jo said. “But Kevin did once join a cult  _ while _ drunk.”

 

Dean looked to Kevin for an explanation. Kevin sighed, glaring at Jo and saying, “It was a bible study for some religion a group of college kids made up. They worshipped  _ Twinkies  _ and swore revenge because they were discontinued. I mean, Twinkies? Really? It’s not like they banned chicken wings or something.”

 

“Oh, yeah,  _ that _ would be worth starting a religion over,” Dean said, sarcastically. “The last time I got that drunk, I was in my bedroom after my dad fell asleep with an old bottle of Jack and discovered what porn really was. Man, I swear my dad was more mad when he caught me even  _ glimpsing _ at guy on guy than when he saw the empty bottle.”

 

“If my parents had caught me… growing up…” Castiel shook his head with a smile. “I would have been so screwed I wouldn’t have even needed porn.”

 

“My mom caught me my first time,” Jo chuckled, looking fondly off out of the window. “My prom date, actually, junior year. He wasn’t even my prom date yet, though, so that was strange. You know, introducing your mom to Hank Lanster as your date instead of your first hook up?”

 

“I bet,” Kevin sighed. “My mom questioned my first date so much she cried in the bathroom while texting her friend to come up with an excuse for her to ditch. Pretty embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as the fact that my mom has lunch with my high school girlfriend once a month.”

 

“And with  _ that  _ cake topper, I say we head out,” Castiel said, pushing himself off and away from the counter. 

 

Tracking down any loose clothing and lost belongings, the four of them left the hotel room. Dean was nearly one hundred percent sure he was wearing Kevin’s socks and belt, but no one felt the need to say anything. Besides, they all made it to the car together and Kevin knew where Dean lived so a few shared accessories between friends seemed alright. 

 

“I’ll pay!” Dean offered, frantically as they left the city. “Just please, before we hit the highway, stop for food. I’d take a fucking raw egg, at this point.”

 

“Fine,” Jo said. “We’ll stop. Ten minutes and we’re back on the road though. I need to change out of this damn bra and soon.”

 

Five or so minutes later, they had parked outside a McDonald’s. They tried to unwrinkle their clothing and fix their hair to look a less like they were hungover and just trying to get home; it didn’t do much. The only good thing to come of it was Kevin and Dean’s switch back into their own shoes and belts after Dean complained his were cutting off his circulation and Kevin’s pants fell down when he stood. 

 

“While we’re here, Kevin,” Dean said. “Eat a hamburger.”

 

“Eat a salad,” Kevin jabbed back as they walked across the parking lot. 

 

Once inside, Kevin ran for the bathroom and Jo for the line, saying they were ‘too damn slow’ and she ‘might as well order for them’. Castiel and Dean didn’t complain about not having to think or speak to anyone. They found a seat by the window and waited for their friends to return.

 

“Hey, so I know we don’t have much time to talk about this,” Castiel started, making Dean’s heart race at a million miles per hour. He knew he had done something wrong that night, he had to have, he had been waiting to do something and now he knew it probably happened while he was too drunk to remember it. 

 

“Just… last night,” Castiel sighed. “When Gadreel and his buddies got into at the club, I— Dean, why did you jump in like that?” Dean sighed with relief, though he was still confused. “I mean, I know technically we just met a few days and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable talking about anything, but it just…”

 

“Freaked you out?” Dean asked. 

 

“N—No… Yeah, maybe a little,” Castiel admitted, pushing leftover salt around on the table with his index finger, barely able to meet Dean’s eyes then, but when he spoke again, his eyes shot up to Dean’s. “Not in a bad way, really, I was just disappointed that I might have put you in a situation where you ended up in a fight.”

 

Dean could feel his face flush, his palms start to sweat. He didn’t really know what to say, he barely remembered past his challenging Kevin. “Look, Castiel, I don’t really remember any of that,” Dean chuckled, nervously. “It explains why I’m weirdly sore in various places, but I probably just jumped in on instinct... or something. It’s not your fault.”

 

Castiel eyed him skeptically, unsure of if he should believe Dean. “If you suddenly drop off the face of the earth, Winchester, I will blame myself. And then I’ll blame Gadreel and the other dickwads.”

 

“Nah, you guys are stuck with me now,” Dean said, rubbing his face. “Just until I’m sure I don’t need medical attention for something.”

 

“Let my lawyers know,” Castiel said with a smile, leaning back into his seat a little more comfortable now. “They’d love to debunk your claims in seconds, they get bored.”

 

“You an easy client?” Dean asked, crossing his arms over the table. 

 

“Hey, you keep your drug deals under the radar and anyone can be an easy client,” Castiel shrugged.

 

“I’m sure,” Dean chuckled as Jo and Kevin rejoined them.

 

Kevin threw himself into the seat beside Castiel with a sigh. “That was the most stressful bathroom trip I’ve ever had to make. I can barely see straight, what the hell did kind of shots were those?”

 

“Don’t be such a wimp,” Jo said, handing him a hash brown the size of his hand. “Let’s get moving, boys.”

 

Groaning and moaning, Jo forced the guys back into the Ford and started off down the road again. They argued for a while over music, but eventually settled into their seats and ate until their heads let up and put the jackhammers down for a while.

 

“What are you doing when we get back?” Castiel asked, both Dean and him leaning their faces against the seats to talk to each other. 

 

“Sleeping, probably,” Dean said. “I need to call my brother, too. Why?”

 

“Just curious,” Castiel said, his lips curving into a whisper of a smile. “I thought you might want to come over.”

 

“You’ve got more plans to kill me?” Dean smirked, flicking the seat belt absentmindedly. 

 

“No, just to bore you,” Castiel said. He turned over, leaning his head and back against the seat, rather than his side. “Just wanted to hangout for a while, or something.”

 

“I’ve got to study,” Dean said, still looking over at Castiel. He could see his face fall a little, thinking of a casual way to say it was fine and they could hang out some other time. “But come after dinner. You can help me.”

 

Castiel smiled, nodding a little. “I’ll kick  _ Arthur _ out for  _ you _ this time.”

 

Castiel was looking away now, leaning against the door and trying to sleep, but Dean still stared. It was creepy, he knew it, but he wanted to ask him what he meant. He wanted to say something, it felt awkward. But it wasn’t, Castiel was asleep and no more worried about what he had said or implied than if he had said nothing at all. Dean was jealous of Castiel’s confidence in everything he did. He wanted to feel the same around him, but Dean was new to just about everything outside of cars, music and his family. Man, did it suck.

 

After they got back to campus, the group went their separate ways. Kevin to his dorm, Jo to get coffee and aspirin, Castiel to hunt down Duma and Gadreel, and Dean to call his house.

 

It was a quiet day on campus. Most of the students were just trying to get into a regular schedule. Maybe Dean should have been doing the same, but instead, he was nursing a hangover and dialing his dad to make his headache worse. He was gonna call his dad up and scream until his lungs gave out. And he knew he might be overreacting. He knew he probably  _ was _ , but each time he thought of Sam skipping school and being taught over and over that it didn’t matter, his blood boiled over and his gritted his teeth so hard he could swear he heard them crack.

 

“Hello?” 

 

The deep voice over the phone suddenly unnerved Dean. He felt like he was seven years old again, being cursed out for burning dinner or neglecting a chore he had been told to do. He hated the feeling growing in his chest, telling him to fall in line with his father’s tone and what it demanded or be beat and sent to bed without dinner. It made him think of the mornings that he woke up sore and dehydrated from crying, muffled by his pillow. The mornings his dad would ruffle his hair and act as if nothing had happened, so long as Dean never screwed up again. He lost his voice, his courage and the ability to defy anything as soon as the voice reached the phone. His greeting came out in a squeak, uncharacteristic to his normal tone.

 

“Dad…” Dean cleared his throat. “ _ Dad _ , it’s Dean.”

 

There was a silence, making Dean’s skin crawl. His blood went cold and wished he hadn’t been standing outside, surrounded by the other students. He could hear a heavy sigh, deepening to the point of nearly being a growl. A snap sounded somewhere in the background and Dean heard Sam cry out about their dad breaking something. Dean winced at the noise.

 

“Where the  _ hell  _ have you been?” John Winchester demanded. “I’ve been calling you since last night trying to figure out what the  _ fuck _ you told _ my  _ son.”

 

“Dad, I--”

 

“I didn’t send you to that damn school just for you to disappear and then suddenly fill my son’s head with  _ nonsense _ ,” John said, not bothering to censor anything out for the sake of Sam. Dean knew his brother was still right there, he always was. “Next time you wanna talk to Sam, you call me and you ask to. You understand me, boy? Is that through your thickass skull?’

 

“He’s my brother, Dad,” Dean argued, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make it back into the dorm and up the stairs to his room. “I… I was just checking in. It sounded like he was missing school… I didn’t want him to get behind or--or fail a class or something. I wasn’t trying to--”

 

“You aren’t  _ trying  _ at all,” John interrupted. “Let’s talk about that. I saw those quiz scores. You’re better than that, Dean. I’m better than that. Don’t make me think I’m wasting my hard earned money on you, boy. My son could use that money, you hear me? Got plenty of things that money could go toward.”

 

“ _ I’m your son _ !” Dean shouted, acutely aware of the other students still around him as he reached his floor. “I’m your fucking son, Dad.”

 

“Not like this, you’re not,” John said, coldly, as if he hadn’t even thought twice about it. It was casual, a constant and familiar thought. “Get back to studying and don’t miss another call from me, you got it? I call again and you miss it, I’ll personally drag your ass from that school and make you work day and night to pay off those student loans. I won’t have such a waste in this family.”

 

_ Is the money the waste or me? _ Dean thought, but he didn’t have the chance to ask when John hung up, the sound of Sam begging to talk to Dean all that was heard before it cut off.

  
Dean pushed open his dorm door, slamming it into the wall. He grabbed the first book he could find and chucked it across the tiny room. It hit the wooden frame of his bed and bounced onto Arthur’s bed, slightly dented on the corner. Dean kicked the door closed with a loud  _ thwack _ and rattle of the frosted glass. He threw every piece paper off of his desk and onto the floor, not caring that they had his footprints all over after he stepped on them to reach his bed. He tried to lie down, to calm himself, but he was too angry, too restless. He paced around the room until his exhaustion took over and he finally crashed on his bed, falling asleep with his fists still balled and his body tense enough to snap straight in half. 


End file.
